


The Panty Dropper (FitzSimmons One Shot)

by Fritzen_lcaos



Series: The FitzSimmons Chronicles [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Agents of SHIELD, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, FitzSimmons fluff, Fluff, Jemma Simmons - Freeform, Leo Fitz - Freeform, Steamy, steamy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fritzen_lcaos/pseuds/Fritzen_lcaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with a mix up, and ended up becoming one of the best nights of her entire life.</p><p>-Prompt for miz-cat on tumblr-.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Panty Dropper (FitzSimmons One Shot)

Jemma's fingers were tapping in an anxious rhythm on the bars wooden counter top, her nails clacking as they did. Her mind raced, her thoughts making her oblivious to the lights flashing around her.

It was just a typical Friday night, her friend Skye would abandon her at the bar, while she worked her way on the dance floor. She usually left with whatever handsome sap was lucky enough to catch her attention.

Each weekend usually came and went in a rapid blur, Sunday's were reserved for nasty hangovers.

Something was different this weekend, though. Unlike before, Skye had her eyes on one guy and one guy only, as she had the last couple of weekends. The secret longing look in her friend's eyes was enough to make her own stomach flutter with butterflies.

She wasn't too lucky when it came to guys, given the fact she spent most of her time out of the spotlight, using the bar to hide her from every male figure. If it wasn't obvious, the bar was an oasis, a place of privacy. She could get lost with every hour that passed, every song that played.

Tonight was different for her. Simply sitting at the bar wasn't enough, no, her mind required something a little bit stronger than synthesizers and flashing lights.

She ordered the craziest thing on the menu, the thing that was least expected to be seen in Jemma Simmon's hands.

That was nearly ten minutes ago and moments had drawn on and the drink had not made its way to her. In fact, she seen hadn't the bartender, a short haired loud mouthed woman, in about the same amount of time.

Letting out an agitated sigh, she leaned back into the barstool. Apparently Skye wasn't the only one getting lucky tonight.

Over the blare of the music, she heard the faintest sound of someone clearing their throat. She jumped startled, surprised to hear someone other than the bartender invade her thoughts.

Spinning around in her barstool, she felt her eyebrows shoot up at the sight of the person standing before her.

He towered over her, in a gray suit and a tie, back poised and his posture straight. Her eyes could hardly resist, she followed the suited body up to a face that made it difficult to keep from sucking in a deep, heavy breath.

A perfect stubble covered his ever-so-thin and pale face, it took all her might to keep her eyes from tracing over his jawline. Instead she took a once over of his face, where she landed on his bright, piercing blue eyes. It was as if they were staring through her very soul, aware of every thought crossing her mind.

It only became just then that she noticed in his hand was a fancy shaped glass with a pink tinted drink on the inside.

Oh shit.

"Excuse me," he began, making her stomach flutter. His voice, while deep, also carried an accent to it. Just when she thought this specimen before her couldn't become more interesting, he had to open his thin lips.

A slight blush rose in his cheeks, as he held out the glass to her: "I believe the waitress-erm-bartender gave me your drink?"

Suddenly the room had grown ten degrees warmer, her face flushing fifty shades of red as his next sentence left his lips.

"I believe she called it the 'Panty Dropper'..?"

Jemma clutched onto the bottom of her barstool, her teeth digging deep into her lower lip.

"That would be mine.." she spoke softly, hoping he couldn't hear her over the sound of the loud music.

He must have heard her, for the hand clutching the drink had extended out and waited for her to take it. She swore under her breath, being careful as to take the glass without brushing her fingers against his. The last thing she needed was the feelings of an electric spark when their skin brushed.

Bringing the glass to her lips, she threw her head back and finished the drink in one giant gulp, before slamming the glass down on the bar.

The man simply stared at her, eyebrows raised and his eyes still locked on her. This only made the heat rising in her face even worse.

"Well?" He questioned. His accent(Scottish, she was sure), left her mind reeling. She wasn't for sure if it was from downing the drink so fast or from his presence, but she felt a slight boost of confidence that wasn't there before.

"Well?" she repeated, her voice tight.

"Did it work?"

This question only puzzled her, leaving her to tilt her head to the side like an adorably confused puppy.

"Did what work?" Her tone was probably rude, but tonight she didn't care. This handsome man with a melodious accent was invading with her "me" time and there was going to be hell to raise if he stuck around any longer.

Who did he think she was, anyways? It wasn't like she was some starry eyed girl desperate for another man's touch. No, she was sure as hell fine without him.

He looked at his feet, before lifting his head to look deep into her eyes. This made her stomach flutter, her teeth now digging into her tongue. Whatever this was, she would kill to keep it from ever stopping.

"Did it, ah.. Make your panties drop?"

Her jaw dropped at that last comment, her eyes growing until she was sure that they were as big and as round as a fifty cent piece. She subconsciously crossed her legs, her hands tugging at the bottom of her length skirt, suddenly aware of how drafty it felt down below.

He gave her another one of those looks, the ones where his eyebrows touched his hairline and his eyes, amused, stared at her. If a look was enough to make her turn inside out, imagine what else he could do to her.

"Don't you have a date to get to?" she removed her hands from the bottom of her skirt, but her eyes remained on him. She was fishing, that much she knew was true. There was no way a guy as handsome and as flawless as him could be single.

Shit, shut your mouth Jemma.

"Date? No. In fact, I'm not entirely here by choice. A friend of mine said I needed to get out and..ah.." he pinched his nose between his finger and thumb, squinting his eyes as if he was dealing with a horrible migraine.

"..Get laid." he finished, this time his words were the ones hard to make out over the sound of the music.

Jemma's fingers twitched slightly, her heart pounding against its ribcage. "Oh.."

He nodded, a noise leaving his lips that sounded somewhat like a hiss of pain. "Yeah, let's just say I don't have the best of friends.."

She rolled her eyes, her shoulders relaxing. "Oh you tell me, every bloody weekend I find myself at this sweaty, loud club waiting for the night to end so I can go home, make some tea and curl up with a good book no thanks to my friend Skye."

His hands made their way into his pockets, it took all her might to keep from looking down in fear that he might think she was checking out..his other stuff.

"Friends, they think they're helping us but it seems we are just their charity cases."

She made a snort of approval, picking up her empty glass and staring into it, wishing that more drink would magically appear into it. She could use a few more, to loosen herself up, to allow her to let down her hair.

The young man was rocking on his feet, his eyes darting between her and the floor. Reaching his hand out of his pocket, she watched as he nervously rubbed the back of his ear.

"I didn't quite catch your name.."

It took every ounce of her strength to keep from scoffing.

Smooth.

"Jemma, Jemma Simmons. But my friends call me Simmons."

He nodded, no longer swaying like a drunk man. "Jemma, nice to meet you. I'm Fitz."

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows, as she placed her chin on her hand.

"Fitz? Just Fitz?"

He gave her a simple stare, his lips pressed into a tight line. "Just Fitz."

Silence now was the only thing that set between them and despite the noises from the club, she couldn't help but feel as if the entire world had grown mute.

Aware of the awkward silence, Fitz pulled back his sleeve to take a look at his watch, a frown forming on his face.

She sucked in a breath, somehow knowing that this was all too good to be true. He'd now make a stupid excuse, before he'd exit at stage right, and she'd never see him again. It happened all the time and to be honest, she wasn't for sure she could handle being rejected again.

"Listen, Jemma, Ward-my friend-usually doesn't like to leave until the wee hours of the morning, and he's my only ride home.. I was just wondering, would you mind keeping me company?"

She did her best to hide her surprise, but she must have failed miserably for a red tint was now visible on his cheeks.

"N-Not like that, I mean.. Like," he swore quietly, pinching his nose again. "Dammit, would you mind just dancing with me?"

It was as if he asked her to marry him, she couldn't help the way her heart raced behind her chest, a huge smile spreading across her face.

"Depends, will you buy me a drink later?"

His expression relaxed, as a warm smile replaced his flushed frown.

"Deal."

Sliding off the barstool, she abandoned her safe haven of the bar and dove head first into the battlefield known as the dance floor, holding hands with a stranger she only just learned the name of.

Unlike the serene quietness of the bar, the dance floor was a heated frenzy of bodies pressed tightly together, flashing lights and intoxicating smells. Nervous, she squeezed Fitz's hand tighter, her teeth drawing her lower lip in again.

She looked for Skye's familiar face, hoping that her friend seeing her break out of her comfort zone would help her feel more at ease, but Skye was nowhere to be found.

Fitz had stopped them at a section of the dance floor that was less congested and more secluded. He let go of her hand just as the next song, a familiar tune blaring on about intimate feelings, began playing in a synthesized beat. Unsure of what she was doing, she made the horrible attempt of swaying to the music.

He took one look over her stiff, awkward movements and let out a small chuckle, one that made her entire body shiver.

"You don't ever dance, do you?" he asked over the music, an amused smile playing across his handsome face.

Embarrassed, she stopped swaying and crossed her arms across her chest like a stubborn two year old.

"Excuse me, it isn't like I spend my time krumping for a living." She was aware of the fact that her lip stuck out in a pout, as it always did when someone made fun of her.

Shaking his head, Fitz reached out his hands and grabbed her own in his, startling her as he drew her dangerously close to his body.

"As my friend would say, relax. No one is watching, no one really gives a damn about what the other couple is doing. Just focus on me and you'll be fine."

Despite the dark glare she was giving him, he ignored her and put her arms around his neck, allowing him to lower his own hands to her waistline. She tried to do as he said and allow herself to relax, to forget everyone and everything. Suddenly the music seemed to get louder, the farther into the song they seemed to get the bigger her smile seemed to get.

A grin crossed his own face, causing her head to spin as he drew her body closer. "See? I told you you would get the hang of it!"

Unable to contain her excitement, she burst into a fit of giggles. It was like his very presence, his scent, it intoxicated her. The more relaxed she became, the more she wanted of his intoxicating behavior. His hands had lowered themselves a few inches, allowing them to rest on her hips as she swayed in rhythm to the music.

She was now close enough to where she could feel his breath on her neck, making her shiver at its warmth. In a matter of moments what she had never dreamed of doing with a complete stranger was a reality and with each passing note of the song, they found excuses to draw themselves closer and closer, until they were to the point that there was no space between them.

This forced them to stop, out of breath and panting. His face was just centimeters from hers, giving her the perfect opportunity to take in every inch of his handsome face. This time, she let her eyes wander wherever they pleased.

They traced themselves along his jawline, taking in his stubble before looking to his lips, which were no longer in a flat, thin line. This dared her to lift her eyes a bit higher, where they became locked with a set of eyes as bright and as blue as the ocean. Looking into them took her breath away, every little design was like a perfect wave, making her stomach flutter.

It hit her just then that she was breathing heavily against his lips, earning her an amused look from him. "Enjoying yourself, aye?"

Her face flushed a deeper shade of red, as she bit down the urge to kiss him on the spot.

"Sorry, it's just.." she bit her lip, earning him to tilt his head in concern.

"It's just what, Jemma?"

That had pretty much done it for her, as she allowed her forehead to press itself against his.

"Bloody, I think you made my panties drop.."

Fitz's eyes widened at her sudden remark, his jaw dropping in surprise. Before he could make a sound of protest, she closed the rest of the gap between them and allowed her lips to press into his just as the song burst into the final chorus.

It was like picking up a bottle of wine and pouring its contents down her throat, at first awkward and foreign, but after the first few drinks, everything became easier and a blur. Using her arms around his neck, she brought him as close as her body would allow, her lips lingering on his.

It only took him a moment to get over his own surprise before closing his eyes and melting into her kiss, his hands caressing the back of her neck. She tilted her head slightly, angling herself so that she could deepen the kiss. His fingers tangled themselves into her short, wavy hair, a small moan escaping his from deep within his throat.

Oh dear, this was every bit of wrong and dangerous and stupid, all the things her parents had warned her so actively about, but tonight, tonight she didn't give a damn.

Here was this man, this wonderfully handsome man with a unique accent and blue eyes prettier than the biggest ocean and he was holding onto her, kissing her in the crowded dance floor with a passion so strong, it was like they've known each other for ages.

She wanted him to hold onto her forever, to keep his fingers tangled in her hair, to keep his lips exploring her mouth, his breath hot on her face. It ended with him gently breaking the long and passionate kiss, his forehead pressing against hers.

Breathing heavily, she looked into his eyes to see that his pupil's were twice as large and she imagined that hers probably matched his. His arousal was evident, as he placed his head into her shoulder and breathed softly into her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

Because of this one wrong mix up, this club meant more than a place to be abandoned in, and a Panty Dropper was more than just a drink that she would down every Friday night.


End file.
